Dreams in the Snow
by Lawliet Veneziano
Summary: A story of an assassin and a would-be target. One wants to escape the binds of being rich and powerful but bored; the other is just taking them along for the ride. This is just the beginning. Please R & R.  1st chapter up; Rating/Genre subject to change
1. Prologue: Snow Falls

If it was any time of year that the two first met, it wasn't the time you'd think. Not summer when the temperature is so hot love almost seems to burst out from inside to find someone to share itself with; it wasn't spring when new beginnings came and old endings disappeared so as to promote the feeling of the purity of a first love; it wasn't autumn when the leaves fall and the world becomes a land of color and wonder that pulls out simplistic and gentle words of affection. No it was winter, the dead of winter, when all the land was painted white, when there was no new life and the temperatures were well below; it was winter that first time they met and it would always and forever be winter.

But winter wasn't such a bad time to start.

For Tsukkuyomi, the story started with a fight. It wasn't hers, and she didn't want it, but it was the thing that pushed her forward; it was a fight between her parents, or two people who pretended to be her parents. Nothing ever seemed to be so simple in her house and the two who were fighting were just one of the couples who over time had taken the eight year old in and taken care of her. The fight was over money or food or something like that; she had covered her ears immediately when the first plate broke so she wasn't too sure.

Sitting in the corner of the dark living room, curled up into a ball with her hands over her ears and her eyes shut tight, she hid from the fighting, the yelling, the throwing. She didn't like the fighting at all but this seemed like all the two could do. She wondered if this was all people in love did.

She carefully opened one eye, glancing out over the arm of the couch she was hiding beside, seeing into the lit kitchen; the man, a nice man to her, was yelling angrily, holding papers in one hand and his suitcase in another. The woman, quite sweet to Tsukkuyomi, was screaming and brandishing a knife at the man as if daring him to come closer, to make her hurt him. Tsukkuyomi frowned but no tears came; she pulled back, looking down at her stuffed owl Kuromu-chan at her feet but no tears came; she held the owl closer, biting her lip but never she cried. She looked up at the window above her, at the sky beyond the glass and curtains; snow was falling and she thought of the snow. It mesmerized her, it called to her; it seemed so much nicer than the screaming. Another crash made her jump and Tsukkuyomi let out a soft whimper, alerting the two that she was indeed awake and in the other room. The yelling and screaming stopped for a moment, followed by footsteps towards the living room; the woman yelled at him about yelling at her in front of Tsukkuyomi. The man yelled back that it was the woman's fault. Tsukkuyomi felt fear, deep fear, strange fear, and as the man came up she moved: Tsukkuyomi ran past him and towards the door, opening it before running outside and away, away from the house, away from the people, just away. The soft sound of yelling was drowned by pure white; Tsukkuyomi liked that, she liked the silence of the snow and holding her owl she kept running through the snow.

It took her a while before she realized how cold it was. She'd just run out of the house, she wasn't wearing shoes or wearing a jacket, just her light blue night gown, her long black hair in a little bow; she was wearing practically nothing outside in the snow. And so she sneezed. Once, twice, three times, she shivered and held Kuromu closer before looking at her surroundings; the nearby park, she was at the park she usually played at. It was familiar yet odd; the swing set was empty and silent, the slides white with snow, the tunnels and domes and tetter-totters all quiet as the grave. She was truly alone there and she was cold.

Tsukkuyomi whimpered slightly and sneezed again before walking over, her frozen feet moving numbly through the powder-like snow and leaving footsteps soon covered by fresh flakes. She shivered more and more, feeling very cold as she climbed into one of the tunnels, the inside of which was empty of any snow or anything else. It wasn't a warm spot but it was dry; she curled up, her owl tight in her arms, her eyes starting to drop. She felt sleepy, very sleepy and started to drift off when she heard something. More footsteps, the crunch of shoes in snow; worried it was the man coming for her she went in deeper into the tunnel, her eyes wide and watching the way she came. The footsteps got closer and closer and she whimpered a bit; they stopped right beside her, silence fell again and she waited, biting her lip, hugging Kuromu tight to her. She hoped she would be okay, she hoped they wouldn't be mad, she just hoped.

Then a head popped down, smiling lightly at her, "Hello."

It was a boy, her same age, with blue hair in a strange sort of hairstyle, it could only be called pineapple despite also being short; he had two colored eyes, one blue and pretty, the other red with a strange symbol in it, a bruise around the eye. He had earrings on his ears and wore a plain t-shirt, white in color, and a pair of short pants as well as tennis shoes; he didn't look any better dressed than she did except that he actually had shoes on. Still there was something about him, beyond just his eyes, beyond that he was smiling when she was not, that told her he was different than her; he was in a world apart from hers and his world was more dangerous.

He came in and Tsukkuyomi hugged her owl closer, incidentally catching his eye to the animal, "Cute owl, what's it's name?"

"K-Kuromu," she said her voice barely above a squeak.

"Kuromu, hm?" He sat down next to her, still smiling, seeming to be thinking on the name, "And yours?"

"Tsukkuyomi," she said; she wasn't sure why she told him though, she just felt like it.

The boy laughed softly, "Kufufu, nice to meet you Tsukku-chan."

Silence more fell and the two children sat alone together, one staring into space, the other staring at them; moments passed, an eternity before finally Tsukkuyomi spoke up, "Why are you out here?"

The boy looked to her, silent before his smile returned, "No reason really, I just felt like going for a walk."

"In shorts and a t-shirt?"

"Says the girl wearing a nightgown."

She blushed and looked away pouting, "Hmph."

"Kufufu," laughed the boy, seemingly amused by her somehow; she glanced back at him frowning, "Why are you laughing?"

"Because," he responded, "Just because, kufufu."

She pouted again, a little annoyed. The boy was laughing at her, just laughing at her. She'd run off again but she felt too numb to do so; she sneezed again and curled up to try to get warm again, not noticing the boy look at her. Tsukkuyomi closed her eyes, trying to imagine somewhere warm; she was on the beach in the sun, playing and making sand castles, running around in her swimsuit and laughing with the sun smiling down on her. She could really feel the warmth too, like it was real, like it wasn't just a dream; a small smile crossed her lips as she kept imaging it. No one was fighting, no one was screaming, it was peaceful and nice on her imaginary beach. She felt especially warm on her arm, just one spot, one little area on her upper arm; somehow though that warmth felt the nicest, gave her some peace of mind.

She opened her eyes and the warmth was still there, somehow the beach was there too, only she wasn't running around; she was sitting on a towel in the sun, wearing his nightgown, the boy right beside her with his hand on her arm right where that special warmth was coming from. His blue eye was closed but his red eye was wide open, a number one symbol where his pupil should be. At first she felt worried, scared; she wanted to cry and push him away but something stopped her. His smile was serene in a way and she didn't really feel scared at all, not of him at least. Carefully as not to dislodge his hand from her arm, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she felt sleep come over her again. She mumbled, "Thank you….."

"Kufufu" was the last thing she heard.

/

Veneziano: Yay, I finished. I rather like this actually. Please review, tell me if it's any good; I'm thinking of continuing it into a full story but I don't know yet. I need to know if I should first. Well bai-bai for now!


	2. Night Snow

The party was in full swing, a royal gala affair for all to take part in and experience. As long as you had the money or influence to get invited. Countless people walked around the large ballroom that was situated on the very top of the grand Genkaku Tower, countless more dollars adorning their bodies in the form of elegant clothing and expensive jewelry; there was a strange sort of veil of buzz in the air, the collected form of all the chatter and gossip that filled the air. Everyone was enjoying themselves, not paying mind to the very person for whom this party was being held.

In perspective though it wasn't like Mukuro much cared if the people there noticed him or acknowledged him or about anything to do with them. Long since he'd learned to watch them all from a distance, knowing they wouldn't bother him and even if they did they'd never understand. He stood on the edge of the party, leaning lightly against where wall and window met, one hand nonchalantly in the pocket of his pants, the other hand holding a glass of wine; dark blue hair framed his young face, styled in a strange way with spikes in the back. Two mismatched eyes looked out at the crowds, matched with a slight smirk to give a feel of condescension, of amused contempt; one eye was blue as his hair, the other was a deep unnerving crimson. Dressed in a black suit, tailor-made for him, he looked like he could belong among them and yet his aura said otherwise. No, he had no want to join them either.

He turned his gaze to the window after a moment, out into the darkness of the city night beyond the glass; lights from buildings flickering and winking at him, the sight of cars and streetlamp below with a well-hidden full moon watching up above in a cloudy sky, it was a world of night and yet of life. He could only imagine what the people below were thinking and doing, how the businessmen hard at work in their offices felt, what the moon thought of them all. He found those people he didn't even know much more interesting than the rich men and women who currently surrounded him; it was one of the many things he hated in his life. But there was so much more.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something odd, a flicker of light that seemed to glide through the sky, a slight catch of light; the smirk from his face widened just a bit and carefully he set his glass down on a nearby table before leaving, saying nothing to no one, paying no mind to the people who in turn cared not about his own thoughts; he simply slipped past, leaving them all to wish him a happy birthday while he was gone. There was something much more fun to play with,

He left the ballroom, going into the stunningly silent hall, and made his way down it, unable to contain laughter that billowed up from within him. It crackled and boiled until he let it slip; "Kufufu. Kufufu."

Mukuro pulled on the tie on his clothes, undoing it by the time he came up to a door some distance away from the ballroom; carefully he removed his other hand from his pocket and set it upon the hand scanner beside the door. There was beeping, a beam of red light ran over his palm, then a ding and a computerized male voice spoke; "Handprint accepted: Welcome back Master Mukuro."

The door slid open and Mukuro spoke into the dark room, amusement and dare he say it excitement in his voice, "It's such a beautiful night, wouldn't you say my darling hitokiri?"

The room was dark, unlit save for the dim moonlight filtering in through the open window; the curtains fluttered in a slight wind and silence ruled the air. He smirked a bit at the fact he was unanswered, not at all offended; he reached against the wall and flipped the light switch, causing the lamps in the room to turn on and flood the darkness with light. Everything seemed the same; the bed was still neatly made, his things were still scattered across the large table in the middle of the room, his closet was untouched and closed. There was no sign of anyone else in there and yet he knew, he just knew.

He stepped inside, moving a few steps forward away from the door before it closed behind him and he felt cold, sharp metal pressed against his throat; he tilted his head up, still smirking as a voice spoke to him, "Move and I'll slit your throat."

"Oh you will, will you?" He felt amused, not just by the threat but by the one threatening him; the voice was female, young, his age most likely. It was cold and practiced, like someone use to making threats and carrying them out, and he got the feeling the one behind him was use to her prey being scared when they had a knife to their throats, ready to slip and draw the blood within; he however saw no reason to fear. He wasn't anyone else and he had his own way of dealing with violence.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes; he saw no reason to use violence against the attacker, especially with her in perfect position to at least mortally wound him. He said nothing for a moment, didn't even move; he just stood still as if waiting.

Suddenly the lights blew out, the curtain blew close, the room was cast in complete darkness. Mukuro let out a laugh and disappeared from the attacker's grasp, his one red eye glowing in the dark, staring at his would-be killer, "Kufufu…."

His laugh rang in the room and the assailant fell back onto the ground, her voice shaky, "Wh-what the hell?"

He kept laughing and the shadows retracted, disappearing to reveal the room just as it had been before, just with Mukuro still standing with his back to her and the attacker on the floor. He turned around, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised at her, "You were saying?"

He looked down at her; as per her voice, it was definitely a girl in her late teens, her long raven black hair in a tight ponytail on the top of her head; she wore a long black overcoat with a belly shirt and a pair of jeans underneath. She had a knife in one hand and a sword on her back with its handle sticking over her right shoulder. Her eyes, a strong crimson much like his, stared at him with fiery and anger from behind eschewed glasses. She looked young for someone with her type of job, he thought, but for him that just made this fun. He loved playing with people his own age.

"What the hell was that?" Her speech wasn't very refined, the words of a girl with a bad background he supposed.

He tutted, wagging a finger at her, "Pretty girls shouldn't say 'hell' so much."

She glared at him and growled angrily, "Shut up and answer my question."

"If you ask nicely I just might," he said with a smirk.

The girl seemed unamused; quickly she pulled herself up onto her feet and attacked him, Mukuro not even moving as she landed on top of him, knife to his throat once more, "Shut up. I hate it when the target talks like that, like you're so great. It irritates me."

"You shouldn't jump on boys when you're alone in their room with them," he said smirking still; he flipped them, though he got a little knicked in the process, "Or else you'll end up in a position I'm sure you don't want.

He pinned her hands down, pulling the knife from his neck at the process; he held her down, making sure she couldn't escape. He found himself surprised by just how strong the petite girl was; her wrists were thin but if he didn't push down with all his strength he got the feeling she'd break free. Just what he expected.

She thrashed and tried to get free, "Let go! Let go of me! Pervert!"

"Pervert? Me? I'm offended," Mukuro said, "No I'm not a pervert, I'm just a rich kid with too much time and too much boredom. I just want to talk to you, little miss assassin."

The girl glared at him again, obviously not trusting him in the least, making him wonder if he would have no luck talking to her; she was extremely stubborn and seemed impossible to reason with. He'd have to get rid of her he supposed, until she finally spoke again, "I'm listening. But it better not be a trick, rich boy."

Mukuro chuckled, "Kufufu, no worries, no more tricks."

He got off her and got to his feet, allowing her to do the same; she watched him carefully as he continued, "I wanted to ask a favor of you."

"What is it?"

"I want you to kidnap me."

* * *

><p>Veneziano: Ha the first real chapter of Dreams in Snow. Hope you like it, it took me two nights to write.<p>

Mukuro: Kufufu, if you want more Vene will need reviews first. Even one will do. Otherwise no second chapter for you.

Veneziano: Oh Muku-chan *huggles*


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